A wish to forget

There is memory of a world glimpsed but not lived
How can it be still, that the scent lingers
How can it be then, that the heart pines
If but has to be then, the impressions of lifetimes past

A village bullock, and burning leaves
The scent in winds, of rain soaked earth
The temple bells, perched on sloping cliff
Friendly runs, under blazing sun

Will this village be ever back
For my children and the lives ahead
I will miss it more, if memory serves
I pray of your, to rather leave me alone

Do not miss life

Every night the silver moon shone
Every morning the crimson son rose
But holed up in your computer
You didn't realise the passing life

You did not hear the washing rains
Nor the barking dogs aloud
You forgot to hear your baby giggle
Or to walk him around the house

Ceasing anger

You only saw that you got beaten
Not the reason why you got hurt
If you only saw that the only reason
Is you, and Prarabdha alone
The world would not flare up in aflame

The fever of stress and lust are same

The fever of stress and lust are the same
Your head feels hot, not a good feel at all

The body feels pleasure, but far far from bliss
And the mind feels guilt, all this marks of lust

The mind feels disturbed, far far from peace
Blaming God as why me, all this marks of stress

Both are best stayed away from, a good life if one wants
Avoid them as sink sands, and try to come out as soon can

Music that blesses

That blissful feeling pervading the hall
And the mind and thought after leaving the hall
Comes from calmness and rest to thoughts
That blissful feeling that blesses us all

Music divine in the name of lord
Has none to compare behold ye all
Created in rhythm a perfected tune
Can grace and confer moksha to all

A prayer for release

Give me bliss, the focus to not distract
To not be tempted, by world's tastes
Both gross and refined

Hold me close, in your name and thought
Bless me with rest, and lack of distress
Both worry and ambition, be far from reach

Let there be giving, balance and peace
A life well lived, an example to cherish
A freedom forever, from the samsaric cycles

Post death you see things

Post the body's death, there are no senses
There are no more eyes nor ears to hear
There are only impressions, that stay alive

Post the body's death, you are limitless
You realise that, hankerings were, pointless

Post the death, you realise life, was precious
Oh post the death, you realise life's, true purpose

Use your senses, to do what's right
Oh please listen, to your conscience
Be humane, no didactic
They all are right, from where they stand!

Sridevi belonged to Tamil cinema

I've no doubt seeing some of Sridevi's earlier, works in Tamil cinema, that the Tamil Film industry is what gave her full opportunity to explore her creativity and give it full expression. Be it 16 Vayathinile, Moondram Pirai, Varumayin Niram Sivappu to name a few, you can see the amount of footage and complex, women-centric roles she got to play at such a young age. I'm sure working alongside a talent like Kamal Hassan in many of such films also would have immensely honed her talents.
It's no surprise that after a few years of moving on to Hindi films, she was getting frustrated and began picking and choosing films and reducing the number of films she signed up. This in turn might have distracted her from acting leading to the mistakes in personal life and general unhappiness that plagued her throughout.
She was lucky though that Yash Chopra got her memorable roles in Lamhe and Chandni. And credit to her for only opting for films where she had enough expression for talent like Chalbaaz, Judaai, English Vinglish even though these became few and far between. Good that she didn't get typecast in B Grade Jeetendra remakes of Tamil mass hits.
Yet, one who'd seen Sridevi's innocence, natural child like vice and easy body language in Tamil critically acclaimed films, would immediately notice that these did not suit her in Hindi films. And that she never got those kind of complete roles in Hindi, which over time, would have matured into National award winning characters if she'd stuck to Tamil.
Well, but life has its way with things, and even the beautiful Sridevi chose to go under Hindi cinema for money, and under the knife for beauty, all leading to disastrous results...

Swacch Bharat alright.. But who will maintain

Yesterday on the way from Anantapur to Bengaluru, went to use the public toilet next to airport toll. And believe me - and I'm from Mumbai who's seen a lot in suburbs - this was the worst toilet one could have seen.
No celebrity, no politician would have stood next to it irrespective of their claims.

What is the use of an outer shine when inside it's this dirty. And how come such a toilet in even such a prime area. The response I'm sure would be that there is no government funding for maintanence of toilets, funds are perhaps only to build new ones. As a gentleman did so yesterday, better than use such a toilet is to defecate in the open. It is akin to the movie Joker, where as part of free toilet schemes, just the toilet seat was handed to the poor in a well promoted event. What about the piping and drainage, no point in even asking.

Be it toilets or demonetization, a weakness of this government has been to not consider and plan for the aftermath. I hope it takes this feedback and builds on the good work of creating a non-corrupt administration.

Bharat still lives in its villages

Not in the villages, all this social media, why when people know each other already.
It's not the traffic or roads that win votes, where basic amenities of water and shelter a concern.
The Bharat in cities, is a speck in this ocean, of cultures diverse. All bound by the thread, of Sanatana Dharma.
If you want to live a life truly tranquil, not that all do, but the opportunity still resides in its villages
Where trees still cool down, the breeze and paths, and the minds of many a mendicant.

Generations of culture well preserved being eroded

Despite the marauding invasions of Mughals, hell bent upon wiping out cultures, how wonderfully are the Rajasthani traditions preserved.
In the desert heat that nurtured, vegetarian rugged features; where aesthetic music and graceful dances despite prevailed.
How blessed we are that the will persevered, even with scarce resources battling biting cold nights and tempting offers to convert.
This culture great of the state and country, is slowly eroding by a youth nonchalant.
Fed with education that looks at the West as great. As ourselves made up of orthodox mindset.
They look down at themselves their potentials great. And measure success with ability to immigrate..

Invested in Earth and forgot the after

In every religion they make sure to teach
That this world is not the end in itself

This life is not the only one
That death is not the end of ways

We spend in here a little time
Souls who have come to reap their fruit

Why then this mad rush to destroy at will
What in first place not belong to us

The riches here don't fly aboard
The ship that we take to reach beyond

So share and care for your own good
Earn eternal bliss on Earth and Heaven

May the mother cow be healthy

The symbol of innocence, the mother cow
With no expression except of love
Always giving and not asking much
The mother cow, watches over us

May she be fed, with food and care
She will bless us as ever, with milk and calm
May she be protected, venerated as Life
Her destiny is ours, we will realise

Flow of time

Flow of time, resembling waves
Inconspicuous little, but precious moment
If you are tensed, the one that freezes
And when in love, the time that flies

I know the time, I feel one moment
And then that moment, passes by
Before I can understand it well
The moment bades me, goodbye

Flow of life

There is a general flow to things
The baby runs in optimum speed

The children find mirth in company
The flowers bloom to impress the sun

I feel this thing on certain days
As if all is fallen to place

The rhythm of life like the beating pulse
Is quiet yet moving like the passing time